Hatter Madigan and the Flu
by Hattertant
Summary: Hatter's sick, but it won't impair his duties to the Queendom and the Millinery... or so he thinks.


_Written April 22, 2009._

* * *

Hatter Madigan's head was on _fire_.

Not literally, mind you, but on fire with a burning, aching intensity, a stinging pain throbbing in his temples and at the back of his head and the front of his head, all around, up and down. His eyes were half closed as he absentmindedly trailed after Queen Genevieve, much like a zombie shambling through the night.

The North Dining room, of course, was where they were heading; it was the once-a-cycle dinner of the Suit Families: the Hearts, the Diamonds and Spades, the Clubs. As they entered the dining hall, Hatter passed by a looking glass on the wall. He glanced at his reflection. The Milliner's eyes were a bloody red, and his face was pale and sickly, with his hair, damp from a cold sweat, was stuck down on his neck and forehead.

Hatter Madigan looked _terrible._

But still he progressed, ignoring his personal dilemma to fulfill his duty to the Queen. As Genevieve glided to her seat at the head of the table, Hatter went ahead and pulled out the chair for her. She thanked him, and as she went to sit down-

"Oh, Hatter," she said upon seeing his face. She seemed quite concerned. "You don't look well."

Hatter went to speak, but at first no words came out of his mouth. He coughed once, twice, and then he said in a hoarse, cracked voice, "I'm fine, Your Majesty. Please, sit down."

"You should take the night off, Hatter," she said, insisting. "I'll be fine tonight. You look like you need a break."

The Milliner shook his head. "I'm fine, Your Majesty. Please, sit down."

Before the Queen could reply, in came the Walrus-Butler. "My Queen!" he said. "I present to you the Suit Families: Diamonds, Spades, and Clubs!!"

Genevieve quickly sat down, and Hatter helped push in her chair. His arms felt like lead, his legs were numb, and the fire in his head was beginning to be felt all over his body, in his joints, in his fingertips, in his chest and neck and back. And the sounds in the room, the footsteps of the Suit Families in the hallway, began to fade out of his mind as the room became a fuzzy blur.

Hatter Madigan had the _flu_.

The Lord and Lady of Spades, garbed in exclusive green satin; the Lord and Lady Diamonds, clothed in yellow silk; the Lord and Lady Clubs, wearing brilliant, sparkling green. As they swept into the room, they took their seats at the table, and as the Lady of Spades saw the Lady of Clubs--

"You're wearing _my_ color!" gasped the Lady of Spades.

Lady of Clubs harrumphed. "_I_ had this outfit chosen and made for me at _least_ seven rotations ago, you have _no right_ to-"

"_I'll_ tell you who has no right!" shrieked the Lady of Spades. "_You_ have no right to wear _my_ Suit color!"

"_Your-?!_ Excuse _me_, but there has _never_ been-"

"Ladies, _please_," said Genevieve. "Let us have dinner without a confrontation."

"A _confrontation?!_" the Lady of Spades hissed. "This is no minor _confrontation...!!_"

Hatter's mind suddenly went blank, and he suddenly couldn't comprehend the voices. He blinked. What was the Lady of Clubs saying? No wait, the Queen, what was _she_ now saying? The Milliner's head burned. The Lord of Diamonds spoke, spoke _what_, said _what?_ Beads of sweat ran down Hatter's back.

And the room itself became a blur, spinning wildly in all sorts of directions, the lights, the voices, the _lights_, the _voices!_ Hatter quickly grabbed the back of the Queen's chair to steady himself, but then the tiled, black and white floor turned to a wriggling jelly, waves springing up and out as the walls collapsed inward on top of him-

Hatter Madigan's hand slipped from the chair as his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed to the floor, his hat fell off and rolled away, and the heated argument between the Suits diminished to an instant silence. A deadly silence.

The Walrus-Butler waddled into the room and his tray of tarty tarts clattered to the ground with a deafening racket.

Queen Genevieve slowly stood from her chair. "...Hatter?"

Hatter weakly coughed. "I'm f-fine, Y-Your Majesty. Please, s-sit down."


End file.
